


The Next Time You Say Forever

by thecitrinefox



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 17:47:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12822783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecitrinefox/pseuds/thecitrinefox
Summary: Stiles is mad at him. It’s not that unusual, Derek guesses. They’ve always had a relationship that was built on a certain amount of arguing and bickering, but this time it’s a silent anger. Usually Stiles has no problem letting Derek explicitly know all the ways he’s let Stiles down, but now he’s not talking.This was written for sterek week last month and was originally posted on tumblr.





	The Next Time You Say Forever

**Author's Note:**

> As noted in the summary, this was originally posted on tumblr for sterek week and was inspired by a Neko Case lyric. It takes place between scenes set in the Teen Wolf series finale.

_The next time you say ‘forever’ i will punch you in your face._

Stiles is mad at him. It’s not that unusual, Derek guesses. They’ve always had a relationship that was built on a certain amount of arguing and bickering, but this time it’s a silent anger. Usually Stiles has no problem letting Derek explicitly know all the ways he’s let Stiles down, but now he’s not talking. After the raid where they’d been reunited, he’d spent hours loudly complaining to the FBI agents on the task force and the EMTs who’d shown up about his shot off toe, and how a change in walking gait now could mess up his hips or his back later, but once Derek and Stiles were alone in Derek’s car together, heading back to Beacon Hills, it was dead silence. 

That’s how Derek knows that whatever is eating at Stiles, it’s serious. He’ll tell anyone who’ll listen about every minor gripe and petty complaint he has, but the big stuff he keeps bottled up until he explodes with it. Derek tries to think of something he did or said since he’d incredulously looked up to see Stiles in an FBI vest of all things rush into the hunter’s warehouse along with a dozen agents, but Derek didn’t do anything they hadn’t done a million times before. Hell, this time Derek hadn’t even really been badly injured. He’d taken a few blows to the head, sure, but they’d been relatively minor compared to what he was used to and he’d healed almost instantly. He’d barely even bled, which was a blessing when trying to convince law enforcement and medical professionals that yes, he really is fine and there’s nothing questionable about that fact. And Derek had even gone along with whatever lies Stiles had come up with to get them out of the situation without either of them getting arrested. Stiles had even managed to cajole the head agent into writing him a recommendation later. 

They can’t make as good time as Derek would like. Stiles’ right foot is injured, and while he could probably still drive in a pinch, Derek doesn’t want to make him do so if for no other reason than he doesn’t like to see Stiles in pain if he doesn’t have to. He’d tried to tease Stiles about it being a minor injury back when an EMT had been bandaging it, but Stiles hadn’t taken the bait, ignoring Derek’s joke and instead had turned back to charming the EMT. Derek had stalked off. It was immature, but he knew he had no right to feel jealous so he’d made himself leave, although he’d still stayed where he could still see Stiles. 

Derek drives for almost fifteen long hours, making it to just outside Kansas City. They’d stopped only for gas and the bathroom, eating crappy gas station junk food that Stiles hadn’t even complained about. Derek springs for a genuine hotel room, not some crappy motel. He has the money and he thinks after the day (week, year, _life_ ) Stiles has had, he deserves to sleep somewhere clean and nice. He only gets one room. Even if Stiles is mad at him, and even if Derek is pretty sure they haven’t been followed here, he knows he’ll only be able to sleep if he can keep Stiles close, and safe. 

Stiles at least lets Derek help him hobble up to their room on the fourth floor. He also lets Derek herd him over to the bed by the back wall, so Derek can take the bed that will put him between Stiles and the door. They shower, one after the other, and Stiles at least deigns to tell him what he wants to dinner when Derek orders room service. They eat in silence and don’t turn on the tv. It’s late, and Derek’s exhausted from driving and imagines Stiles is probably tired from the raid and the pain as well, so they get ready for bed quickly, moving around each other in an effortless routine, before climbing into bed. Something in Derek’s chest aches as he looks over and sees Stiles turn away from him. He turns out the light and tries to force himself to relax enough to sleep. 

“You can’t keep doing this,” Stiles says finally, into the darkness. 

“It’s not exactly my fault that hunters were after me, or that the FBI picked it up,” Derek replies quietly. He’s lying on his back and keeps himself from looking over at Stiles. 

“No, not that,” Stiles huffs angrily. “I know your life is always going to be a shitshow. Mine is too. I understand that. That’s not what I meant.” 

“Then what did you mean?” Derek asks. Stiles is silent for a while, but Derek doesn’t push. He knows sometimes you have to let Stiles gather his thoughts and find his words in his own time. 

“You keep leaving,” Stiles says. “And I know why. I understand it. I think it the right decision, I think it’s wonderful even. You’ve been so much healthier and happier, since you left Beacon Hills, and I get it. Beacon Hills is poison. You should leave Beacon Hills. Everyone should leave Beacon Hills and they should burn it down behind them.” 

“Okay so…” Derek isn’t sure what he’s getting at. He lets himself shift to his side so he can stare at the back of Stiles’ head in the darkness. Stiles still has his back to him, and the air has the faintest hint of salt to it, like Stiles is holding back tears. 

“Every time you leave you say that’s it,” Stiles says. He sniffs and his eyes must have welled up because now there’s a burst of sorrow and frustration. “You say so long, this is it I’m leaving _forever_. And you leave the keys to your loft behind and you change your phone number and you leave. And I _deal with it_. And then you fucking come back.” 

“I didn’t come back this time,” Derek points out. “You found me. That time in Mexico too, you were the one to find me and bring me back.” 

“Yeah, exactly,” Stiles says. He finally turns, sitting up and leaning against the backboard of the bed. “I found you. I found you back then because you needed me to, and I found you now even though I was even freaking looking for you. I tried to move on. I left Beacon Hills myself, I thought hey, fresh start, Derek said he was leaving forever, maybe it’s time that I do too. And then the first day, the _first fucking day_ of my internship, not five minutes in to our first lecture and who do you think they show video of.” 

“Me,” Derek guesses. 

“You,” Stiles sighs. “I can’t keep doing this.” 

“So you want me to...leave?” Derek guesses. 

“Christ, have you even been listening to me?” Stiles says. Derek lets himself get up and walks over to sit next to Stiles. Stiles flinches slightly, but doesn’t tell him to move. “You tell me you’re leaving me forever, and every time I have to deal with it like it’s the truth. Every time I have to get over you like I’m never going to see you again. And then I do see you again. Over and over and over, and when you’re back it’s like you never left, and I tell myself not to get used to it, but I _do_. And then you leave again. Okay, do you understand what I’m saying? Derek, if you say you’re leaving forever one more time, I swear to god I will…” 

“Okay,” Derek says, catching Stiles’ gesturing hand in his. They’ve touched each other hundreds of times probably. In anger, in sorrow, occasionally in enthusiasm or happiness. Never like this though, just the two of them in the intimate dark, a moment of safety and warmth. “Okay.” 

“You finally get it now?” Stiles asks, his voice quiet in close space between them. Derek isn’t sure which of them started to lean forward since they started talking. Maybe both of them. 

“I won’t leave again,” Derek says. “I can stay in Beacon Hills.” 

“I meant it when I said Beacon Hills was poison,” Stiles says. “I know we’re going back there now to help out, but either of us staying there is not the solution I was going for.” 

“Okay,” Derek says, smiling now because he finally gets it. He does, and he can’t believe it took him so long. “So while you’re there, I’ll stay in Beacon Hills. And when I leave I’ll take you with me. And if we ever have to go our separate ways for a while, I promise, Stiles, I promise I’ll always come back. I’ll always come back to you.” 

“Yeah, that’s it,” Stiles murmurs, his scent going warm and happy. He leans forward and Derek meets him halfway. It’s a lot more gentle than Derek had imagined their first kiss would be, comfortable, like they’ve been doing it for years even though this is the first time. Derek pulls away slightly after a moment, and finally lets himself trail a line of kisses down the beauty marks on Stiles’ jawline and neck that have always distracted him, grateful that he can see them even in the dim room. Stiles lets out a groan that’s half pleasure, half frustration. 

“I would love to take this further, but neither of us have slept in like thirty-six hours, and we still have a lot of driving to do tomorrow,” Stiles murmurs, and Derek leans his head against Stiles’ shoulder. 

“Okay, budge up,” Derek says. Stiles shifts across the bed a little, lifting the blanket so Derek can crawl under it. Stiles turns again, and Derek tucks himself up behind him, wrapping an arm around Stiles’ stomach and pulling him so Stiles’ back is snug against Derek’s chest. He lets himself nose behind Stiles’ ear and inhale his warm sleepy scent. It’s quiet as they both drift off to sleep, but Derek thinks he’s never felt so safe or peaceful, despite whatever awaits them back in Beacon Hills. They’ll face it together. And then whatever comes next, they’ll face that together too.


End file.
